The Photo

by M.H.D.S. Dharshanapriya

‘Where is the photo ? Who took it ? Tell me.’

My sister’s frenzied voice overhauled the usual screeching and rumbling sound of the traffic outside our house. She was sweating profusely and walking to and fro like a caged animal.

Father, mother and I were supposed to be the accused.

A deep silent prevailed.

‘o.k. I have the negative with me. I will print a fresh one.’

Saying this, in the same aggressive manner, my sister went into her room closing the door with a thud. My father winked at my mother. I silently crept into my room.

I personally disliked that photo. She had taken it secretly after her face got disfigured. Almost her entire left cheek was marred and blackened. She had been thus for two years before recently the plastic surgery she underwent was a rare success, surprising even the doctors. On personal reasons one of her boyfriends has thrown acid over her face deliberately, luckily avoiding her eyes.

After the surgery, in spite of my protests, she has made me hung that photo opposite her dressing table, so that she could see her other self through the mirror while she was dressing. My father was really furious of her conduct.

As we had suspected, though she insisted over and over again, she did not print the negative.

Two, three months passed. Father and mother were happy that she has started applying makeup whenever she went out, as she had not done for years.

A year or so passed. She announced her marriage. She got married to a businessman.

One day, recently after the wedding, while I was at my sister’s place, when I was returning to her place, I saw her smiling to herself holding her wedding photo.

Amazed, I was grappling to memorize the photo she was dispossessed and adamant to get back to her possession, but could not recall it myself.

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